


All Play and No Work

by lemon_dr_pepper



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, Deepthroating, Double Penetration, M/M, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other, Power Play, Restraints, Rough Sex, Spitroasting, Tentacle Monsters, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-12-25 13:36:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18262370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemon_dr_pepper/pseuds/lemon_dr_pepper
Summary: Belial helps Lucilius work out the kinks of a new creation.





	All Play and No Work

**Author's Note:**

> A moneyshot is mentioned, but there is no moneyshot.

Nothing beats a personal invite to Lucilius’s private parts… of the laboratories he loves so much to work in.  As Deputy Head Researcher, Belial doesn’t exactly need an excuse to come, but it’s always nice to be called for specifically while knowing full-well that other angels won’t be allowed in.  Having a third (or a fourth, why stop there?) around can be a fun romp, but when it comes to Cilius, well, he can’t help but want him all to himself. Down he goes into the depths of the lab, deeper and deeper, with a spring in his step audible in the way his shoes beat against the cold stone floor, until the light’s dimmed down to good mood lighting and any other sounds of life are long gone.  Cilius really is quite the romantic, even if he would balk at the very idea.

After a lengthy downward spiral, he arrives at the limited-access chamber he’s been looking for, the door of which he raps on with the back of his hand.  “Yoo-hoo--anybody home?” Despite being sealed so tightly that even he would have trouble breaking in, the doorway opens to him effortlessly. Deeper still inside, Lucilius himself is hunched over a desk as per usual.  

Without looking up to see Belial’s grand entrance, he calls over.  “You certainly took your time.”

He really didn’t, but he loves to humor the boss.  “I took the scenic route. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“You aren’t.”  He really isn’t.  Lucilius can see through him like glass without needing to look at him grinning as he strolls on in and the doorway seals behind him once again.  

“Anticipation is fun, though, isn’t it?  It makes the eventual payoff so much more satisfying.”

“You’ll be acting as my test subject today.”  Ah, to be ignored. As per usual, Lucilius is all business, or so he’d like to claim.  The way the words “test subject” sound coming from his lips betrays his true intentions, though.  It makes Belial shiver.

“Of course,” he replies with a polite bow.  “Love.”

Lucilius finally sets aside his pen and looks at him.  His pale hair and pale skin are painted by the colorful lights emanating from his various equipment, but they cast even stranger shadows where the lights don’t touch.  The darkest of those shadows cover his face, but his eyes are still bright enough to read, and they are sharp as daggers and cold as ice. But any attention is good attention.

Belial rights himself, feigning surprise.  “My bad. Would you prefer ‘Master’? Or can I just go with ‘Cilius’?”

“I’d prefer you to stop talking if you have nothing useful to say,” he replies flatly.  “But we’ll get to that later.”

Another Cheshire smile creeps onto Belial’s face.  “What have you got tucked away in those sleeves of yours today, Cilius?  From where we’re hiding, I assume it’s an abomination against the Creator.”  Those are Lucilius’s favorites, after all. 

“So to speak.”  

There’s a tug at the base of Belial’s leg.  Before he’s had a chance to look at it, the thing has already begun winding its way up, long and smooth like the body of a serpent slithering its way up his inner thigh until it’s nudging against his cock--which, he admits, was already half hard by the time he got here.  He groans softly under his breath at the touch, which prompts it to focus more attention on his bulge. “Mm, so this is your new little pet? He’s so friendly!” ‘He,’ Belial finds, is a purple tendril extending from something unseen in the darkest part of the laboratory.  It wraps itself around his waist and crosses up his chest until the tip of it is able to stroke his cheek. 

“I need to collect additional data on its capacity for strength, dexterity, and adaptability.  I’ve gotten as much on my own as I can.”

Belial furrows his brow.  “So you’ve been playing with it without me?  Don’t tell me this is going to be my replacement.”

“The fact that you think you can be replaced by a writhing mass is telling, Belial.”  At last, an admission of fondness! Sort of. He’ll take it.

“Seriously though, is this what it’s really for?”  The tendril draws a line down his neck, pushing its lower part against his crotch again.

“It has several potential applications.”

“Does it?”  He cannot think of much besides how enthusiastically it’s frotting him.  “I suppose that’s why I’m only the Deputy. I lack your boundless creativity.”  He moans again and closes his eyes when it slithers up and traces his ear. He opens one halfway to peer at Lucilius again, unwilling to take his eyes off him for too long.  “Can I assume this is the ‘application’ I’m going to be testing today, though?”

“Correct.”  Even as he confirms the nature of their ‘experiment,’ Cilius looks as cold and focused as ever.  For a man who’s now created two devoted sex beasts, he’s very good at hiding his inner fire. “Using you, this seems like the best way to develop the understanding I’m looking for.”

“You’re sure you don’t just want to see me getting hopelessly violated?”  He sighs at the glower he gets for that remark. “Okay, okay. This will be an entirely scientific violation with no ulterior motives, if you insist.”

“I’m sure you’ll find some way to enjoy yourself.”

He will, though probably not as much.  They say that if you love your job you’ll never work a day in your life, and that’s more or less been true for Belial since he’s had the chance to work directly beneath Lucilius.  It’s not exactly a secret that they’re sleeping together, but none of the other archangels truly understand just how close they really are. He lives for Lucilius. He breathes for him.  He would happily die for him, and he would kill for him--and has. He’ll certainly allow him to screw him sideways, be it with his own body or with the help of this fun new toy he’s put together.

As the tendril continues to knead against him it winds dangerously around his neck, though not tightly.  The moment it’s within his reach he leans toward it and caresses the side of its rubbery exterior with his tongue; as if on instinct, the tip of the tendril curls around and matches him, squirming with all the grace of an over-enthusiastic virgin.  Maybe Lucilius really hasn’t gotten down and dirty with it yet. If he has, he wasn’t particularly careful about teaching it how to have a good time. He is not a tender man. When it eases further in he closes his lips around it and sucks hard on the tip.  It withdraws--aw, is it shy? Then thrusts back forcefully, so maybe not as shy as he thought. He reaches to give it a little more attention with his hand, but a second tentacle appears out of nowhere and grasps his wrist so tightly that he can’t move his arm.

“Hm?  Oookay, I see now…”  Belial nods sagely, growing even more excited.  “How many of these are there?”

“Let’s find out.”  Lucilius takes a few steps back, and two more snatch Belial’s legs out from under him before he has the opportunity to react.  As it turns out, there are times when he isn’t particularly graceful either, such as when he’s being forcefully dangled in the air by wriggling tentacles and three of his limbs.  He grabs for nothing with his free hand and flails his other limbs against the awkward hold of the monster as it tilts him around in what he hopes is an attempt to balance him less perilously.

“I can’t say I’m impressed with its strength yet,” Belial calls down.  “It feels like it’s about to drop me!”

“You have wings,” Lucilius replies, scribbling notes.  

Two more tendrils snake around Belial’s body and begin to unwind him out of his clothes.  Impressively, they manage to get them off without tearing them up too much, although it requires him to be thrown around in order to free enough of his body for them to pull him off.  He has to admit it’s kind of a fun and fresh way to be manhandled, though. “Dexterity seems a bit better… Are you keeping track of these things?” he adds as yet more grab for him, until they’re finally able to hold him in a more or less stable fashion.  He breathes a sigh of relief, and another of pleasure when some of them begin to slither down his stomach to his now-exposed erection. Two of them slide their way up the length of it while a third feels him out around the base and further down around his balls, teasing various places to look for sensitive spots.  The two twisting around his shaft begin to exude some kind of a fluid, until they’re both stroking him slick like two impossibly long tongues on him at once. He shudders delightedly--this is already off to a great start. But Lucilius, Belial manages to see, is looking at his paperwork instead of what’s going on above him.  That’s a bit disappointing. He moans a little louder and it’s only half fake, because the licking he’s getting from the tentacles does actually feel pretty great. “Self-lubricating and penetrating both,” or so he assumes, given that one of them is now slipping towards towards his ass--yep, that’s definitely true. “The best of both worlds…!”  He laughs in between sensual groans as the newest little friend works its way inside of him.

Lucilius finally sets down his pen.  “I didn’t ask you to hang there and enjoy yourself.”  Belial cocks an eyebrow.

“I can’t exactly give it back.  It’s a bunch of loose ends. Not much for me to thrust my way through.”

“You’re supposed to be testing its limits,” he responds matter-of-factly.  “I expect you to make some effort to show me what it’s capable of.” Belial puzzles on that thought for a moment, then gleams with fake shock.

“Oh, so that’s what you’re into now?  My oh my.”

“Don’t be stupid.  It’s the only practical way to test for that information.”  That’s ignoring the obvious absurdity of tentacle sex being the most practical way of testing anything in the first place, but Belial isn’t complaining.

“If you insist.” he sighs.  “Much as it pains me to cut this short…”  He takes one of the tentacles stroking his dick in his hand and gives it a little encouraging rub.  Then he grips it and tears it off of himself, severing its connection to the larger part of the arm.  The chunk he’s holding squirms wildly in his grip until he throws it down and it bounces limply onto the floor.  The remaining part recoils, followed by others as he treats them in the same way. The terrible thing is that, due to the logistics of not wanting to get dropped onto his face, he can only take out the ones that are having fun with him instead of the ones holding him aloft.  Two fresh tendrils come flying out of the darkness and grab his last arm, but with some flexing and force, he manages to rip them out of of whatever the monster’s main form is, as they flail in momentary agony before falling away too. 

Down on the ground, Lucilius is scribbling away.  Belial would like to see how he reviews these notes later.

They’re still quickly replaced and the new ones suffer the same fate, but now they seem to be anticipating his movements, interestingly enough.  The ones holding him twist him around into a less versatile position as the next bunch--a veritable barrage now--throw themselves at him. He grunts in mild frustration as several pile on at once, making it a bit more difficult to free his arms again.  “Seems like they’re getting stronger,” he reports. “Or at least smarter--oh!” His arms are twisted up over his head and his legs are spread open to allow more of the tentacles to grab for his cock and ass. One of them winds tightly around his shaft and closes over the head, rubbing circles into the little opening there.  Another pair slither around his hips and spread him to allow a third one to thrust its way into him much more assertively this time. 

He draws a sharp breath at the new display of force, but it’s the good kind of pain.  The tentacle penetrating him now is, thankfully, already lubricated, but it’s noticeably bigger than the last.  It works him harder, too, along with the help of the ones twisted around his legs, which are raising him slightly up each time it withdraws and pushing him slightly down on each thrust so that he’s bouncing on it.

“Okay, now we’re getting somewhere…” he moans with the onset of yet more, these ones licking his chest and his abs.  

“Belial.”

“Yes, Cilius!” he replies, voice dripping with pleasure.  Lucilius does not look impressed.

“Didn’t I just remind you, you have wings?  Use them.”

“Can’t I catch a little break?”  He sighs, so put upon!

“Don’t tell me you’ve already run out of stamina.”

He shoots his creator a falsely betrayed look.  “You know me better than that. I just think I deserve a little reward if I’m working so hard.  Speaking of.” He calls out more generally into the air, to the monster. “Give it to me harder--I can take it!”  How much can he tease it to good effect, he wonders? He has no way of knowing how much cognitive power this thing actually has going for it.  It seems like a mindless sex machine. But it’s a mindless sex machine that responds to stimulus, if nothing else--when he tightens himself around it, it does jam itself in harder.  “Yes! Haha--just like that!”

Lucilius’s penetrating glare is exciting in its own way, but he supposes he shouldn’t keep trying his patience.  Six enormous black wings burst out of Belial’s exposed back, knocking several of the tentacles away by sheer force.  With one flap he tears himself out of the monster’s grip and rounds on it, grinning sadistically.

“You’re the one whose stamina I’m worried about,” he laughs, throwing out his arms.  “We’re not even close to the climax. Come at me if you want to have some real fun.” 

The invitation summons a whole swarm of purple tendrils lashing out at him.  Most he evades effortlessly. Any that do catch onto him are torn apart and the pieces flung around the room, though he does try not to hit Lucilius with any of them (funny as it would be).  There’s a valley of difference in power between the two of them, but that’s to be expected. Belial and ‘the Supreme Primarch’ were designed at the same time, they’re on the same level when it comes down to it, he just has other things about himself he’d rather flaunt.  He doubts that this thing would be able to keep up with even the lesser archangels, though, given that it doesn’t have any wings at all. Probably, anyway. Does it? Now his curiosity’s piqued. 

He propels himself toward the belly of the beast, whipping around its oncoming tendrils.  He hangs a slight right and digs a claw into one of them, splitting it lengthwise as he flies until it withers away from him.  It slows him down a tad, but it’s more fun than relying on simple evasion techniques. “Let’s see what I’m really up against here…”  A thicker globular mass is coming into view now, actually quite fast for the trajectory he’d projected based on the direction the tendrils are reaching from versus the height he’s descending on it from.  He’s just a bit too slow on processing the difference to realize that it probably isn’t the creature’s main body, but rather a much larger protrusion off of it. Something less like a tentacle and more like a club or a hammer--

The sucker punch he takes to the everything almost knocks him out of the sky.  He’s sent reeling, barely able to keep himself airborne for being so dazed and off-balance.  He’s left exposed as the monster makes its move. By the time he’s shaken off the shock of the impact he’s been set upon by a seemingly-unending mass of arms.  They tie themselves like ropes around his wrists and ankles, and arms, and calves, and biceps and thighs, and virtually everything, really. One slings around his neck like a leash and pulls him backwards while even more wrap around his wings in a painfully perpendicular way.  Their grip puts an alarming amount of pressure on the patagium--the more he struggles, the more it feels like they’re about to rip the skin right off the bone. He’s forced to buckle them and pull them to his body to keep them in one piece, surrendering himself to the whims of the tentacles that have already begun to feel him up again, writhing over his torso and hips and leaving him drenched in both sweat and their lubricating fluid.

“O-Okay!  That was a stupid decision,” he admits through a shuddering breath when his cock is gripped and subjected to much more vigorous stroking.

“It’s less stupidity and more hubris that is your downfall,” says Lucilius.

“You think so?” Belial responds. “Personally, I still feel like I’m winning.”  He grunts--clearly the monster isn’t keen on giving him any openings to get out this time, as it’s still layering him with more and more of its powerful arms.  They slither over every inch of him, touching and rubbing anywhere they can reach. He tilts his head back and moans, and his moan catches in his throat and comes out as a shuddering purr as they slide up his legs and trace his entrance.  He’s still a bit tender from the rough way it had been handling him a moment ago, which it seems prepared to take full advantage of. He squirms against its slick tip, but it remains just shy of entering him and the ones holding him still are so difficult to strain against that it hardly feels worth it.  It’s dialed back to foreplay to make him ache for it, very effectively, but that’ll make it feel even better when it finally gives him what it wants to give. And it learned all that in just a few minutes of struggling? “Y-yo, Cilius,” he breathes. “I have an update on its adaptability for you--beyond figuring out how to outmaneuver me, it’s picked up a few other fun tricks without needing to be led along too much…  Are you getting any of this?” 

He wants to be sure Cilius is getting a good look, so he strains just a little more to twist himself in the other man’s direction.  This time--he is so pleased--Lucilius is actually observing. He’s definitely getting Belial from a good angle, too, and even though it’s obscured by the distance, he catches a hint of a smirk on his face.  A fresh idea pops into his head.

“I feel like your emotions are coming out in this monster,” he laughs.  “Am I onto something? I know you love to see yourself in your creations.”

There he goes, looking down again, as if his paperwork is suddenly so much more interesting than the real thing.  He has no shame in ignoring conversations he doesn’t want to be a part of. Thankfully, Belial has no shame, period.  He extends the invitation more explicitly:

“I wish you’d join me for a little more hands-on study, though.  No mere imitation can compare to the real thing.”

The temperature in the room drops.  Despite the heat coursing through him, Belial shivers--twice so when Lucilius glares daggers at him.  The severity of his look is actually a bit puzzling. He anticipated a frown, but it seems he touched a sore spot a little harder than he meant to.  Belial’s own face falls.

“Are you really thinking about Lucifer right now?  I’m not talking about him.” Having Lucifer cross his own mind earlier was bad enough.  Lucilius getting fixated on him while Belial is the one putting on the show would be devastating.

“I couldn’t care less about your impromptu criticism of my work, Belial.”  If that’s the case, why is he suddenly so touchy? Even the tentacles are tightening.  “But the focus of this test is on the one you’re playing with. Are you finished?”

“Not quite,” he says more carefully.  “I’m testing a new strategy.”

“And is there any point to seeing this strategy through?”

“Always.  You only touched on it briefly before, but wouldn’t you like to come up with a measure of this thing’s stamina?  Its brute strength doesn’t matter too much if its enemies can keep it up until it tires itself out. And I certainly can.”  Lucilius is still brimming with visible disdain, but he can’t deny his curiosity. “Then it’s at my mercy.”

“How cunning,” Lucilius says dryly.  But he raises his notes again, and, more importantly, he doesn’t take his eyes off of Belial.  “I hope you don’t think I’m stupid enough to fall for that paltry excuse.”

“Hey now,” he retorts.  “My personal goals are irrelevant here.  You can’t deny the fact that I’m right. It’s worth a look.”  In the undercurrent of their current conversation lies a different, subtextual one.  That’s what they’re really debating. Sure, outlasting the tentacle monster would produce some fine data, but that’s not the thing Belial would like to prove himself against.  It’s Lucilius’s will he wants to bend. He hasn’t lied once about wanting to be with Lucilius right now--no matter how many impossible ways this monster can please him, there’s nothing more satisfying than some simple one-on-one time with the man he loves.  He actually feels quite adorable despite the exhibitionism. But, Lucilius has his pride. There’s no denying that he made Belial’s libido as high as it is for a reason, but every so often he gets stuck in these strange loops of not wanting to cop to his own fantasies.  Maybe it’s because he wants to come off as a purely logical being, all-knowing and above such carnal desire. Maybe it’s because he likes the banter, the back and forth, the false chase. Being wanted isn’t enough. Belial has to work for it. Belial’s eyes flash. “Let’s make it into a little game,” he continues.  “I won’t cum unless you do.”

Cilius looks bored by the idea.  “I’m only here to observe the fruits of my labor.”

“Delicious, right?”  He smirks despite the lack of response.  “Well, even if you aren’t into it, that’s the game I’m playing now.  If this really was purely because you sat down and decided that the most straightforward method of testing out your new creation was to have it screw me senseless, no ulterior motives...  Then you should get a great sense of how long this thing can last, because I plan on enjoying myself for a while. Denial can make the finish even better--” He’s stifled by a tentacle curling up to wrap around his head and cover his mouth.  He lets out a muffled laugh that reverberates through the tendril, then closes his eyes and allows himself to enjoy the pleasure.

The tentacles teasing at his ass finally amp it up, one slipping its way inside of him while the other continues to touch him at the edges.  The one inside is wriggling around, searching for something, it feels like--which it finds, he gasps as it rams itself against that sweet spot with much more force.  Well, if he does lose this game, at the very least he’s set himself up for an acceptable second place. It does so again, then rhythmically. The ones on his cock shift until they’re jerking him off with a similar aggressive rhythm, and the ones further up on his torso begin to slither down his hips, then back up to his chest to trace the sinew in his muscles and tug on his nipples.  With the tendril wrapped around his face, it’s difficult to make much noise, but that doesn’t stop him from grunting or mumbling the occasional bit of encouraging lewdness into it, just in case the sound waves will travel through its gelatinous arms and reach whatever it is that’s causing all of this to happen. Suddenly it pops off!

But Belial doesn’t.  His erection is throbbing, but still at full attention.  With a free tongue, though, he can make a little noise-- “Mmm, Cilius…  This feels so good. You’re going to leave me spent, so long as you cum first.”  His opponent has lowered his notes, but he’s firmly focused on Belial, who beams back at him.  His smile quickly turns into surprise--he tries to turn his head to look behind himself, but the leash around his neck holds him firmly, forcing him to simply wait and accept it as the second tendril at his ass--the one that had continued tracing him around the one inside him--begins to push against him a little harder.  “Ah--ahh! D-Damn, really?” He cries out involuntarily as he feels himself stretching past the point he’s meant to in order to accommodate the second tentacle slithering its way into him. He grits his teeth against the pressure and pain, both severe enough to make him feel like he just might burst.

But he doesn’t, neither literally nor metaphorically.  It’s intense, but nothing he can’t handle. The fact that this is the first time Lucilius has ever tried something like this instills him with even firmer resolve, in fact.  He must be getting antsy down there. Logistically, this would be almost more trouble than it’s worth if they were to try it with two actual dicks, but the tentacles work perfectly in tandem, and when his body acclimates, it’s nothing short of magnificent.  He lets his mouth hang open to gulp down air, panting, and a throaty moan reverberates through his throat.

“P-Please, Cilius…” he whines.  “I need to finish, but I can’t--not unless it’s you…!”

Lucilius rolls his eyes.

“If you’re present and available, then I can’t unless it’s you!” he corrects himself.

“You’re an idiot.”  Belial’s next cry is cut short by the tentacle that had been covering his mouth before, only this time it gags him directly.  He draws a sharp breath around it as it invades his mouth, then melts into playing along. It tangles with his tongue, coaxing him into sucking it and giving him no space to refuse.  Now it’s stroking him and penetrating him at both ends--twice in the back, in fact. What the hell else could this thing be for? He really hopes Lucilius wasn’t being serious about finding it some other purpose, at least not now that Belial’s having his way with it.  He lets out another stifled whine while the creature shifts him until he’s been bent forward toward his knees the way that he would be if he were taking it on the ground.

He lets his eyes roll back as his new position restricts him to whimpers and moans around the tendril in his mouth.  This is a level of stimulation even Belial hasn’t achieved before now. His body is aching from being pulled and pushed and gripped so tightly, but the heat rising in him is as much from the ecstasy as it from his taxed muscles.  It builds and builds and builds, but still doesn’t go anywhere! Despite looking and feeling like the monster’s plaything, Belial maintains just enough wherewithal to stick to his guns. It can’t truly bring him to submission, a fact that Lucilius must be picking up on by now.  The tentacles are getting agitated. He gasps as his mouth is freed, leaving its fluids and Belial’s saliva dribbling down his chin. The monster tilts his head towards Lucilius; Lucilius’s slender fingers are now gripping his notes so tightly that they’re beginning to crumple.

“If you have the energy to keep up this game of yours, you have the energy to fight.  Get yourself out of this situation.”

“N-No, it really does have me in a rock hard place,” he stammers with a sheepish smile.  “My resistance is purely mental.”

“Finish, or fight.”

Now he’s really into it.  “No, no,” Belial muses with a laugh.  “I don’t think I will. I’m having too much fun.  Besides, I told you--” He hisses through his teeth as his arms are suddenly jerked so far back that his shoulder blades nearly touch.  The creature’s tendrils wind more tightly around his wings at the places where they connect to his body and put some additional pressure there, too.

Lucilius eyes are boring a new hole in him, but he speaks with (barely) restrained anger.  “Do it, or I’ll tear your wings off.”

“What a waste that’d be.”  They pull sharply on his wings--not enough to tear, but it wouldn’t take much more.

“You don’t think I’d do it?”

“N-No,” he manages to say.  “I know you have no problem with breaking your toys.”

“And yet you keep this up.  My patience is wearing thin.  How much luck do you think you have left to push, Belial?

Belial’s grimace twists itself into a sickening grin.  “What do you mean by ‘luck’? If you’d like to kill me, you can--and what a way to go out this would be!  I’d be coming and going at the same time!” He cackles at his own depraved sense of humor, in between gasps and little pained groans.  “Ah… All you’re doing is teaching me to get off on torture. But I guess we have to keep finding new ways to keep it interesting in the bedroom as the millennia pass by…”

Whose will is stronger?  Who will take longer to break?  These questions are a joke--Belial, for as much as he loves to make love so uninhibited, has never, ever folded on anything pertaining to Lucilius.  His convictions could outlast the universe itself. They can certainly outlast a mindless bunch of tentacles, and they can just as easily outlast Lucilius himself, whose composure, Belial can see even from the awkward angle he’s being held at, is slipping.  There’s that ever so slight crease above his nose that betrays how much hotter the fire is behind those steely eyes of his--the twitch of a finger that wants to be somewhere more interesting than buried in a handful of paper. The way his lips are forced to part and bare just the edge of his teeth when taking silent breaths is no longer an option.  

Belial licks his own lips for lack of ability to reach the ones he’s craving.  “Please…” 

“You exhaust me.”  

_ You love it _ , he thinks.  But if he had any point before about pushing luck, this is about the place where Belial feels he should quit while he’s ahead, because Lucilius’s hands are finally ditching the paperwork and fumbling with his robe in a desperate effort to get it all out of the way.  Adorably, he continues to pretend that he isn’t struggling, even when he reveals his cock straining against his clothing to the point where it may very well rip them off. They get shoved out of the way before they can be torn. He doesn’t strip down any further than that, though, which is perfectly fine.  There’s something sexy about watching him hold his robes bunched in his hands with his underclothes down around his ankles. That’s as much effort as Lucilius puts into it on his end; a sudden shift in the tentacles sends a fresh shudder through Belial’s body, though it’s as much to due with where he’s being directed as it is the physical sensation.  They lower him down to hold him at eye level with Lucilius’s erection, his arms and wings still pulled fully taught. He’s still immobile. The only thing he can move is his head. What a sight this must be for Cilius. Forget Lucifer--this is the closest thing to perfection there is! 

He gives him a long first lick to the sound of Lucilius’s shuddering breath.  Now granted permission, he shows him twice the enthusiasm he’d shown the tentacle monster, which he’s sure Cilius will recognize and probably hate, but he can’t help himself.  The fun of teasing him is as strong as the will to please him now that the opportunity’s presented itself the way he wanted it in the first place. He runs his tongue across his skin, over the head and the little hole to catch anything already coming out of him.  He strains against the tentacles to reach him further down, closer to his base and the crook of his hip where he’d love to bury himself just for a little added stimulation on both ends (speaking of, the tentacles in his ass are quivering at every stroke of his tongue).  He stretches his neck to press his lips down and suck little spots in a row down the length of his shaft, until the pain in his shoulders burns so intensely that he’s anticipating having one of them pop out of socket. 

Lucilius’s eagerness is becoming explicit.  He thrusts himself more into Belial’s face. “You are the least efficient person I know,” he mutters down to him--a charming way of saying that he’s getting a little desperate.  

“So impatient,” Belial murmurs into the underside of his cock.

“Following your hedonistic flights of fancy until you bore yourself is a waste of my limited time.”

That’s a bold-faced lie, a big one even for Cilius.  If there’s anything they have in spades, it’s time. Time they may as well waste on something pleasurable.  But, what Lucilius wants, Lucilius tends to get, usually. With a hot sigh against him, Belial relents. He flashes him a fresh smile.  “It feels so good to be wanted.” Eyes glittering, Belial maneuvers himself back balance him on the tip of his tongue for a delicate moment, and then slurps him into his mouth so pornographically that it puts the tentacle monster to shame.  He’d like to see it repeat that trick. Lucilius’s breath catches, then returns to its more normal pace. It’s deeper, though--so is Belial, bobbing his head on him in time to those breaths, in time to the slender arm wrapped around his own cock that’s tugging on him more and more agitatedly.  He hums pleasantly into Lucilius’s cock and feels a little tremor of pleasure pass through the man attached. A little more hard work and he’s rewarded with a soft groan.

He licks him, sucks him, moves his head and his tongue in the methodical way his creator tends to love.  For as much as he loves his chaos, Cilius also loves the methodical. He’s a man of plans and procedures, even when it comes to undoing everything that others have “planned” for him first.  That’s one of his great ironies. He plans to establish himself as an aberration while longing for some sense of control over everything around him--evolution, fate, God’s domain, Belial… And Belial will give it to him.  Lucilius’s hips give him a little something back as they crane towards him to urge him to bring him closer to the edge. “Belial…” 

Just hearing his name said like that is more erotic than anything that’s been done to him tonight.  He moans affirmatively in return and draws himself slowly back to the very tip, taking to just licking him again instead to coax him to his climax.  Another thing Lucilius loves is leaving his mark on anything he can. That’s how he likes to finish these go-arounds, too. So to speak. Honestly, Belial suspects that’s at least half the reason he was designed with dark hair.  He’s trembling, coming so close now… But, well. Belial doesn’t necessarily have to give him complete control all the time.

In one swift motion the fallen angel tears both his arms free from his restraints, sending bits and pieces of tentacle splattering across the floor.  He grabs the other man by his ass and pulls him forcefully towards himself, sliding his mouth over his cock, his lips to the very base, Lucilius’s cock down his throat.  Everything goes dark as the robe slips out of Lucilius’s hands and he grabs for Belial’s head. “B-Belial… Grk…!” His knees buckle at the sudden wash of intense stimulation, just a taste of what Belial’s been enjoying.  It’s enough to make him cum into Belial’s mouth--throat, really. Good, sweet ambrosia. Belial swallows it all. He wishes he could see the look on Lucilius’s face, but at least he can feel how tight his grip is in his attempt to keep himself from collapsing.  When his grip begins to lessen, Belial extracts himself and shakes off the robe, licking his lips as he steals a quick look at the aftereffects of his little surprise. Red looks good on Lucilius, especially alongside his sweat and the uncharacteristic haziness around his eyes as he recovers from his orgasm.  He’s panting now, and staring down at Belial like he’s seeing him for the first time.

He then proceeds to smack him as hard as he can.  “Yeowch! Come on, Cilius!” Belial laughs triumphantly at the absolute fury now playing on his master’s face.  “You can’t pretend that wasn’t good for you. Mmm…” He closes his eyes and leans back into the continuing work of the monster, still thrusting painfully hard into him and licking his cock haphazardly now.  “I’ll quit fooling around. I’m about to pop--” All of the tendrils withdraw at once, a shock of stimulation all its own, but not as stimulating as the pain that shoots through his face as he’s dropped directly onto the floor with a crunch.  “A-Augh! Cilius!” He scrambles to his knees and holds his hand up to stymie the blood pouring from his nose, frowning up at the man who’s stuffing himself back into his undergarments. “You’re so mean! That actually hurt--”

“This session is over,” Lucilius responds flatly.  “If I can’t trust you to provide me with accurate data, then I have no use for you in this project.  Clean up your mess and get out of my sight.”

“Inaccurate…  Do you mean because I moved my arms?”  He groans as Lucilius turns away with an angry flourish and returns to his desk.  “You’re kidding me, right? That was the power of love suddenly granting me new strength…  You think I’m lying?” He sighs, pointedly ignored. “I was finally about to finish, there, too…” 

When Lucilius continues to pretend he isn’t there, he sighs again and retracts his wings while dragging himself to his feet.  He’s dripping with sweat and mysterious, unruly fluid; his body is comprised of one big ache pulsating in various places. Most of the pain will fade within the next few minutes, but the wound to his pride and, more importantly, the throbbing in his forgotten groin aren’t things he can regenerate.  As commanded, he begins the tedious and unerotic process of gathering the loose chunks of monster he tore apart so that Lucilius can assess the damage Belial managed to do to it, and resigns himself to the fact that, tonight, he won’t be able to call himself the Archangel of Cumming.


End file.
